


Scene based on Chopping Spree

by Dusty Tyree (DustyP)



Category: THE A TEAM [TV]
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26288020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyP/pseuds/Dusty%20Tyree
Summary: After Face is beaten up at the Sam Friendly Car Lot.Hannibal takes care of him.
Relationships: Face/Hannibal
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Scene based on Chopping Spree

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short story based on the episode Chopping Spree.  
> I wrote it for my friend while she was writing her own epic, to cheer her on.

Scene from Chopping Spree for Beano Smart  
by Dusty Tyree

Hannibal Smith was on the Jazz.  
He and BA had driven back to his apartment from the Sam Friendly Car Lot after delivering the tape with the safe combination to his lieutenant.  
Now all they had to do was wait until Face came back with the goods.  
Goods! Hannibal smiled to himself, his second-in-command always delivered the goods, whether it be for the Team, or to him personally.  
He was looking forward to their trip to Saudi Arabia. He knew that there would be time for him to take Face into the desert and make love under the brilliant canopy of stars; stars that always seemed closer in the desert, whether it be in a foreign land, or here at home.  
He was lounging on the couch, minus the curly white wig and moustache of his Johnny B personality, but still clad in the purple silk shirt, blue jeans and gold chains that BA had grudgingly loaned him.  
He could hear Murdock teasing BA as usual, and a sudden yelp from the pilot told him that BA had lost his short temper and grabbed Murdock by the throat.  
“Shut up Fool. I’m sick of hearing about your plant - I want my van back... intact, or someone’s gonna pay.”  
“Hey BA, it wasn’t my fault your van was stolen... blame the bad guys...” Murdock's voice died to a croak, and Hannibal sighed.  
“BA. Let Murdock go, or at least let him breathe. We’ll get your van back.”  
The choking sounds continued and Hannibal raised his voice slightly “NOW, Sergeant.”  
Baracus muttered under his breath, but reluctantly released his grip.  
Murdock backed away, hand rubbing at his sore throat.  
“Grumpy, grumpy all day,” he muttered, but low enough so that BA didn’t catch it.  
The big sergeant went to the kitchen and opened the fridge door, looking for the milk that his team-mates always kept in stock for him. Pouring himself a glass he wandered over to the window and stood staring down into the street, his thoughts on his precious vehicle and what might be happening to it.  
Murdock came to sit beside Hannibal.  
He studied the older man intently, noting the sparkle in the bright blue eyes and the half smile which curved Smith's mobile lips.  
“Enjoyed that did you?” he asked smiling.  
Hannibal turned innocent eyes to him “What?” but he grinned.  
“Playing the super-duper rich music promoter to Friendly - you know what.”  
Smith grinned, his white teeth flashing. “Yes, must admit I did.”  
“How was Face doing?”  
Hannibal laughed aloud. “Complaining about having to slow down so that they wouldn’t think his sales were set-ups. His artistic temperament is bruised.”  
Murdock laughed with him. “He’s good,” he confirmed.  
Very good, thought Hannibal; and his smile widened.  
Murdock cocked his head, then the question he was going to ask died on his lips as he saw the look in his Colonel’s eyes, and had a very good idea as to the nature of his thoughts.  
The pilot sighed a little to himself. He didn’t resent his friends’ happiness at being together, but he couldn’t help feel a little jealous at times.  
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, until a small sound reached their ears, and their eyes turned towards the lounge door.  
The front door to the apartment had opened and closed softly, and footsteps sounded in the hallway.  
Smith started to smile in anticipation, then frowned. He’d thought the steps were those of his lieutenant, but now had a sudden doubt. These weren’t the light, swift steps of the athletic Peck. These steps were slow and hesitant, almost stumbling.  
In a flash of colourful shirt and borrowed gold chains, Hannibal leapt to the door, with an equally alarmed Murdock hot on his heels.

Face had regained his senses in the back office where Friendly’s thug had dumped him, away from the gaze of potential customers but contributing nothing to his comfort. He was crumpled in an untidy heap on the floor, his ribs and back aching from numerous kicks and blows from Friendly and his gorilla of a mechanic. He’d been dazed and uncoordinated after the heavy fist of the un-friendly Car Lot owner had smashed into his face, and been unable to defend himself from the rest of the beating.  
He’d staggered to the washbasin in the small toilet and attempted to wash the blood from his face. He’d groaned when he'd seen the damage done to his eye and cheek.  
“Great," he muttered, dabbing ineffectively at the growing bruise. “Hannibal’s gonna go ballistic.” He shuddered when he thought of having to explain why he’d been hit in the first place.  
Grabbing Cindy and kissing her had been his instinct for survival kicking in, otherwise his cover would’ve been blown, and they would’ve lost their best chance of clearing Davey.  
He’d managed, somehow, to get to his Corvette, parked well away form the Car Lot and driven back to the apartment he was sharing with his Colonel, hoping that he could sneak in before Hannibal and the others returned.  
That hope was shattered as the door to the lounge flew open and Hannibal and Murdock practically leaped into the hall.  
“Face!” Hannibal’s shocked cry was echoed by the pilot's  
“Oh Facey, what happened?”  
The two older men came forward and each took an arm, helping their injured friend into the lounge.  
Face’s handsome features were a mess. His cheek was cut under his left eye, which was almost closed. Streaks of dried blood painted garish lines down his cheek, jaw and neck and had dripped onto the pristine white collar of his shirt.  
Friendly hadn’t bothered to remove a ring he’d been wearing and in addition to cutting the fine skin around his eye, had caused extensive bruising to the whole left side of Peck's face.  
Hannibal's good mood vanished in a second and cold fury took it's place. Tilting his lover's chin upward, he looked straight at him. “Who?” he demanded  
Face shook his head and winced. “Doesn't matter Hannibal...”  
“Who?” demanded Smith again, as though he hadn't heard.  
Face sighed inwardly, this was one of the reasons he'd hoped to be able to sneak in and tend to his eye. He'd had a good idea what Hannibal's reaction would be, but even he was surprised at the cold hatred in the older man's voice.  
Knowing he was going to have to deal with this now, and much too tired to invent a plausible lie, he gave in.  
“Friendly,” he said simply.  
“What happened?” asked Murdock, who was hovering behind Smith.  
Face gave a short laugh, then winced, touching his lips he wondered if any of his teeth had been loosened.  
“I'd opened the safe and was photographing the files but Cindy came back too soon and I didn't have time to shut the safe properly, so to distract her I kissed her and shut the safe with my foot...” Face said quickly.  
He glanced up at Hannibal, fearing to see the compassion for him melt into contempt, but the cold anger in those sapphire blue eyes, was not directed at him, Face realised with a sigh of relief.  
“And Old Sam saw you?” Murdock finished, as Hannibal still didn't speak.  
“Yep!” Face started to sag, his legs were trembling, and his ribs ached from where Friendly and his goon had pitched into him while he lay on the ground dazed and unable to help himself.  
Hannibal eased him back towards the couch and Face sat down, or rather collapsed into the soft cushions and closed his eyes, or rather his right eye, the other was swollen shut.  
“I would've got away with it, but Cindy wouldn't let go - said she'd been wanting me too, and well... those few seconds were all it took for Friendly to come into the office,” Face added, wanting to get the whole thing out of the way now, rather than have to come back to it later.  
“That's what you get for being so damn attractive,” Murdock smiled, trying to raise his friend's spirits, then glanced hurriedly at Smith, wondering whether he'd put his foot in it, big time.  
Smith didn't notice. He'd heard everything his lieutenant had said and understood the implications and even why Face had done what he had. Instead of feeling jealous however, his usually cool mind was filled with a primitive rage. All he wanted to do at that moment was drive round to the Car Lot, grab the-not-so-friendly Mr. Friendly and beat the living daylights out of him as a warning not to touch his soul-mate ever again.  
It wasn't the first time Face had been on the receiving end of a beating, and he was frequently involved in the punch-ups which the Team seemed to attract wherever they were, but since they'd become lovers, Hannibal felt there was no reason to hide his concern under a flip comment and casual pat on the shoulder. He felt he now had a right to take care of the blond lieutenant, who had become his whole reason for living.  
“Hannibal,” Peck's voice was soft and he reached out a hand to touch the bigger man's shoulder.  
Smith, lost in his black world of revenge, tensed, and Face dropped his hand as though he'd been burned.  
His already despondent mood dropped to zero. Hannibal was really pissed off with him now. He should've kept his mouth shut about Cindy, but in their personal lives he found it very difficult to lie to Hannibal.  
Seeing the dejected droop to his friend's shoulders, Murdock spoke. “Let's get you into the bathroom and bathe that eye, you're going to have quite a shiner.”  
At that, Smith blinked, returning from that inner place where primitive emotions ruled and looked at the pilot.  
“I'll do that Murdock, will you get the first aid kit?” He crouched in front of the slumped figure on the couch. “Are you hurt anywhere else, Tem?”  
At his given name, Face raised his head slowly. Smith's tone sounded almost... almost tender.  
Unable to speak, for the hope welling in his throat, he shook his head, then nodded. “Ribs, back,” he croaked.  
“Murdock.”  
The pilot stopped in his tracks.  
“Run a warm bath too, please.”  
“Willco, Colonel,” and he disappeared in the direction of the bathroom, passing BA on his way into the lounge.  
“What's going on?” demanded the big mechanic. “Face?”  
“I'm okay BA,” mumbled Face.  
“No, you're not,” snapped Hannibal.  
“What's going on?” repeated BA, “I just slipped out to check on the limo, and...”  
“Face had a run-in with Friendly,” began Smith  
“And his gorilla,” muttered Face, not wanting his friend to think he couldn't handle one man. “He's even bigger than you are BA.”  
“I'm gonna go find that man...” said BA, starting to the door. “Get him to pick on someone his own size.”  
“No, don't...”  
“No, Sergeant.”  
The two voices sounded together, and Face fell back, allowing the Colonel to halt BA's rage.  
“We'll attend to Mr Sam Friendly and his thug... but not yet B.A.” Smith' s voice was back to it's usual cool tone.  
“Yeah, I don't want to have to do all this again,” muttered Face.  
Hannibal bent to help the younger man up and felt Face's in-drawn breath as he was pulled gently to his feet.  
”Okay, kid... easy does it.”  
His muscles beginning to stiffen, Face had to bite the inside of his already bruised cheek to stop letting his friends hear how much he was hurting. He didn't want Hannibal to retreat to that distant place again - the one he knew about - but could never visit. It was his lover's private hell, and escape, when things happened beyond his control.  
”Let me help, Faceman?” asked Baracus, moving to prop the smaller man on the other side.  
“Okay,” sighed Face, knowing he wasn't going to be allowed to slide into bed without being bathed and having his injuries attended to. He'd had much worse in his life, but this unexpected beating had hurt, and he was also mad at himself for getting caught, even under the circumstances.  
Some fifteen minutes later, Face was lying back in the tub, letting the water swirl over his body revelling in the warmth, which was beginning to ease his abused muscles.  
Eyes closed, he could hear Hannibal as the older man moved around the bathroom, putting away the antiseptic spray and cream he'd used to wash his cut and b  
ruises.  
His face was on fire, and the left side had swollen to twice it's normal size, so much so he felt lop-sided. It was not unlike a bad visit to the dentist he remembered from his youth, when his mouth had been numb for hours.  
His left eye still throbbed and he couldn't see out of it, but it felt a trifle easier, but that was due more to the tender ministrations of his lover than to anything as mundane as antiseptic cream.  
He felt Smith pause beside the tub and he opened his good eye, and smiled crookedly up into Hannibal's face, catching the look of concern before the smiling mask was back in place.  
Hannibal was almost as good as himself at hiding his feelings, thought Face. He didn't know whether to be glad, or sorry, that they had this trait in common.  
Hannibal knelt down and brushed the damp fair hair back from his lover's broad forehead. “How you feeling now, kid?"  
“Better" murmured Face, “especially when you do that.”  
“Oh, I can do better than that,” Hannibal replied just as softly, and bent to capture the lips so temptingly near.  
The kiss started out gently, in deference to the bruises, but as Face responded willingly, ignoring the spiteful stabs of pain from his cheek, it grew more demanding until Face was lifted half out of the water. Locked in Smith's strong arms, he gave as much passion as he was receiving.  
After long moments exploring each other's mouths, their tongues duelling for mastery, giving and receiving love and pleasure, Hannibal finally broke the kiss.  
Panting, he looked into Face's eyes, the bruised lids covering their beauty, and he vowed again with all the fervour his passionate nature was capable of, that he would make Friendly suffer tenfold for the pain he'd caused the man in his arms.  
The Car Lot owner must've been filled with jealousy even before catching Face and Cindy together. Face was, after all, better looking, a better salesman, better with people...  
He became aware that Face was gasping for breath, his wet arms wrapped tightly round Hannibal's neck.  
“You okay, Tem?” he asked, mouth moving tenderly over the bruised face.  
”Oh yes,” was the murmur. “I needed that.”  
“You want to get out of there now?” asked Hannibal, lips pausing near Face's.  
Face sighed “Do I have to?”  
“Well, yes. Because I can't really attend to the rest of you when you're all wet and slippery,” there was a smile in Smith's voice.  
“Bet you could,” said Face, a grin lifting one corner of his mouth. “You can do anything Colonel.”  
“Face, Face, you'll make me blush.”  
“That'll be the day,” spluttered Face, remembering all the times his older lover had embarrassed him, but it was rare indeed for it to be the other way round.  
Hannibal's right hand wandered down Face's smooth chest, tracing each nipple, feeling them peak into instant hardness under his touch. Always amazed at how quickly he could arouse the younger, virile, man, Hannibal continued his exploration of the damp body, avoiding the worst of the bruises, while his mouth demanded more kisses from his willing captive.  
Face arched upward as Hannibal's hand found it's way into his crotch, stroking the inside of his thighs on its journey.  
“Hannibal... make love to me...”  
The whisper melted Hannibal's heart and after squeezing the hardening genitals in a wordless promise, he stood up, bringing his lover with him.  
Grabbing the warm bath sheet, he wrapped it around the slender body and lifted the surprised lieutenant into his arms.  
Peck chuckled. “I can walk y'know, I've had a lot worse than this.”  
“Don't remind me,” said Smith softly, as Face's arms wrapped around his neck. “I want to do this, makes me feel like I've got you safe and sound.”  
The smile slipped from Peck's bruised features. “Don't go down that road Hannibal. We all have a say in what we do. I wouldn't change anything. It's just the same for me when you go charging off and get yourself hurt.”  
He stopped not wanting to get into the ifs and buts of their unique existence. Instead he pulled Smith's head round and kissed him soundly on the mouth.  
Hannibal lost no more time in moving into their bedroom and depositing his bundle on the bed, hearing Face give a soft sigh of relief as he was laid flat on his back.  
Starting to unwrap his lieutenant, he heard Peck give a soft chuckle as a stray thought entered his head. “Er... by the way, where did you send BA and Murdock?”  
Smith paused in rubbing the moisture from his lieutenant's long legs. “How'd you know I sent them out?”  
“Listen?” Peck raised a finger and intrigued, Smith lifted his head, trying to hear what his partner was hearing.  
He frowned “I don't hear anything. What?”  
Face laughed. “That's it. Silence. Blessed silence. I can't hear them fighting.”  
Smith grinned and resumed his task of getting his lover dry and comfortable. “Oh yeah, it is good once in a while. I sent them to get groceries. That should keep them occupied for a couple of hours.” He paused. “I hope.”  
“I hope so too,” murmured Face as Hannibal lifted the towel away and left him lying on the duvet.  
Hannibal tossed the wet bath sheet aside and gazed down at his lover. Face's nude body seemed to gleam in the soft lighting. His skin was honey brown tinged with pink from the bath, marred only by the purple bruising around his chest and lower abdomen.  
Hannibal forced himself to look past that piece of brutality and let his eyes roam the rest of that splendid form. He really is beautiful, he thought helplessly.  
From the top of his tousled gold mane to the toes curling slightly under his scrutiny, his second-in-command was a picture of male beauty.  
Slender feet and fine-boned ankles; firm calves, even his knees are handsome, thought Smith with an inward smile. Long, strong, thighs guarding his well-shaped genitals, flowing into narrow hips; then narrowing again at his waist. Flat stomach, with the most tantalising little belly-button just begging to be kissed; ribs arching to a deep chest, broad shoulders and smooth, round arm muscles, made his upper torso a delight to behold.  
His face, however, held the kind of beauty from which legends are wrought. Smith had seen many handsome men in his time, but his partner's looks were unique. Yes, he was more than a little biased. But it wasn't just the blend of smooth, relatively unblemished skin, symmetry of features, sensual lips and sparkling white teeth parting in a smile which could melt his socks at ten paces, that made up the beauty of his partner. It was also that inner core of strength and compassion which shone in Tem's eyes - those large, ocean-coloured eyes, that had witnessed more than a man should have to see in one lifetime. After all the crap Peck had seen, those eyes could still look innocently into his own and make him believe he could do the impossible.  
No, it wasn't mere good looks that held him enthralled, it was everything that Peck had been and had become, that would keep Hannibal committed to this man, and he'd be damned if he'd let slime like Friendly and his thugs get away with marring that outward beauty. He found a small measure of comfort in the thought that no-one, with the possible exception of himself, could ever reach the beauty that was within.  
He stared at the younger man's face, trying to ignore the shut and swollen eye, the angry red cut which looked worse from the hot water, and the bruising, now a spectacular shade of crimson and purple, spreading down his cheek into his neck.  
Instead, he concentrated on the shape of those sensual lips, the straight nose he often kissed in passing, the glossy fair hair and the brightness of that right eye, gazing at him with such love and understanding.  
“It will fade,” said Face softly.  
“I know, lover. Just hate to see you hurt in any way, shape or form.”  
“Likewise Hannibal.” He wriggled deliberately, supposedly to get comfortable, but well aware of how erotic it looked, then added. “Let's forget about reality for awhile, huh?”  
He crossed and uncrossed his legs drawing Hannibal's eyes down to the burgeoning feast awaiting him between the lean thighs.  
Realising he could spoil their time with his introspection, Smith started to shed his clothes. This didn't take long and soon he was kneeling on the bed.  
Face grinned at him. “That's better, now we're equal.”  
“Always that, Templeton, my love,” said Hannibal almost absently, as he traced one hand down the centre of the younger man's chest, one finger circling his navel, very suggestively.  
Face gasped and squirmed, but didn't make any move to halt the torturing digit, the heat of his arousal transferring straight to his groin.  
Hannibal grinned wickedly as he saw the evidence of his companion's desire and promptly lifted his hand, eliciting a groan of disappointment from the bed.  
“Don't worry, my love. This is just the start.”  
True to his word, Hannibal gave up on his teasing and without actually putting any weight on it, proceeded to cover the naked form beneath him with his own heavier body. Kneeling astride Face's hips, with his hands holding Face's wrists in a light grip on the pillow, he kissed him gently on the mouth before moving downward; his hungry lips kissing every curve and hollow in Face's body, sending the younger man into a spiral of rising desire that had him arching upward, trying to force contact with the muscular figure above him.  
Hannibal could see the tremor and feel the heat radiating from Tem's body, and decided he couldn't hold out much longer either. His heart was thudding, his skin felt hot and too tight for his body.  
Releasing Face's wrists, he brought his hands and mouth into play as he kissed and licked the growing length of Peck's manhood until he felt him quiver and spasm, helplessly climaxing in a frothy surge of semen.  
Hannibal greedily swallowed the creamy essence he'd encouraged, then kissed the spent organ tenderly, before moving back up the bed to take Face into his arms.  
“Oh Hannibal,” sighed Face. “I do love you...”  
“I know sweetheart. The feeling is most definitely reciprocated.”  
“That's nice,” sighed Face, cuddling into the strong arms surrounding him.  
He lay still for a moment, savouring the warm strength supporting him.  
Then, feeling Hannibal shift a little uncomfortably, he let his hand roam down the front of the older man's body.  
Smiling as he felt the heat and hardness stir under his touch, he moved his head from Smith's shoulder. “Feels like we're not finished yet, huh lover?”  
“Nope,” grinned Hannibal, “far from it. You make me insatiable, Tem. I'll never be finished where you're concerned.”  
“Okay. I'm duly warned. Come here.”  
He rolled Hannibal over onto his back and sat astride the older man's wider hips. Bending lower to kiss Hannibal's lips, he couldn't help a grimace of pain as his bruised ribs protested this exertion.  
Hoping this hadn't been noticed, he continued to kiss Hannibal's throat, then moved down to kiss the hard nipples.  
“Tem, don't bend like that, you're hurting...” protested Hannibal, even while his body was responding to his lover's expert touch.  
“What's a little rib ache, when we've come this far?” smiled Face as he tongued Hannibal's left ear.  
“But...” began Hannibal again, trying to wriggle away without upsetting his lover. Much as he loved what Face was doing, he had no intention of allowing him to feel pain.  
“Shush, don't talk,” whispered Face, ignoring both his Colonel's verbal and his own physical protests. He'd pay for it later, but as he continued down Smith's eagerly responsive body, he also knew it would be worth it.  
When he reached Hannibal's groin, he knew the older man couldn't hold out much longer. His sex was fully erect and burning hot. Lifting himself slowly, Face captured Hannibal's blue gaze and held it, as he positioned himself over the erect lance straining to be sheathed inside him.  
Wriggling slightly, he pushed himself down, hearing Hannibal groan with the effort of holding back, then they both gasped aloud as Hannibal's penis slid into Face's welcoming body.  
Face leaned back slightly, his arms supporting himself on Hannibal's thighs, knees spread wide across Hannibal's lower body and felt his Colonel's hands grasp his hips, steadying him. For long moments they stayed quiet and still, enjoying the sensation of being one, then Face began to move in rhythm with Hannibal's upward thrusts, rising and falling, he rode the heat and power of Smith's desire with growing delight. The pace quickened, both men breathing hard as their passion peaked until Hannibal paused, then cried out as he climaxed, sending a torrent of scalding semen into Face's body.  
It seemed to last for an eternity, and Hannibal would never forget the sight of Face, blond head flung back, chest arched, his slim body stretched taut as he gave himself willingly to the man between his thighs. Then Hannibal, his passion abating slightly, but still joined to Face with a living bridge of flesh, rolled sideways, bringing the slender body to rest beside him, Face's long legs still wrapped around his hips.  
He couldn’t speak, as his manhood continued to throb gently in its warm sheath and he wanted to stay there forever. This way, no one could come between them, and Face would be safe.  
As Face opened his good eye and looked at him, he grinned. “Nice huh?” he gasped.  
Smith laughed despite himself, “You little imp of mischief... this..” he wriggled, making Face blush and bite his lip, “is more than just ‘nice'.”  
“You're telling me,” sighed the lieutenant, wishing he could prolong this moment for ever.  
It was not to be however, even Hannibal had physical limits and he slid reluctantly from his warm haven and moved closer to his lover.  
They lay together for a while, their desire satiated, their minds at ease. They both loved this time after making love; when they would hold each other, feeling the other breathe, hearing their hearts beating together.  
Hannibal sighed, knowing that they should try and sleep. Face needed the rest after the beating he'd taken and his own mind would be clearer after a night's rest.  
He kissed the top of the blond head nestled against his upper chest. “Now, I think you'd better get some sleep. Another long day tomorrow.”  
“Aw Hannibal,” moaned Face. “What happened to romance? Where are the undying words of love whispered into my shell-like. Where are ‘you were splendid my love' ...etc.”  
But he was betrayed by a yawn, as the energetic coupling with his lover, combined with the trauma of the day, ambushed him.  
“You are splendid my love,” Hannibal smiled, then added, "and I'll be here, waiting to tell you all that tomorrow.”  
As he felt the lithe body relax further against him Hannibal whispered. “Go to sleep, my love...my only love...”  
“’kay, love you Han'bal” was the muttered response as Face slid easily into dreamland, secure in his colonel's arms, and knowing that he would indeed be there for all his tomorrows.  
“I love you, Templeton... always will.”  
Then Colonel John Hannibal Smith lay watching the moon come up, and it was the next day before he finally closed his eyes and joined his soul-mate in slumber. 

The End

(c) Dusty Tyree

Started - Saturday 26/05/01 approx 9 am  
Finished - Sunday 27/05/01 0.44 am precisely  
Tweaked again - Wednesday, 30/05/01

(With various stops in between for shopping, laundry, making of meals and tea...)


End file.
